


demon barber in black

by cebw12



Category: Orphan Black (TV), Sweeney Todd (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, Character Death, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 13:08:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7105348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cebw12/pseuds/cebw12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sweeny Todd and Orphan Black crossover AU. Rachel is Sweeny Todd, Sarah is Mrs. Lovett, and Helena is Toby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	demon barber in black

**Author's Note:**

> This is heavily based on Sweeny Todd, but you don't necessarily have to see it to understand. Rachel has opened up a barbershop over Sarah's pie shop, where she murders her clients, and they become Sarah's success-iducing secret ingredient. Helena was the assistant of an abusive rival barber, who Rachel has also killed, and becomes a part of the "family."

"Christ, I don't know what I've gotten myself into."

"It is good for your business," Helena looks around at the crowded pie shop.

Sarah straightens up from her chair. That woman is here again, her face covered.

"Oi!" She doesn't seem to hear.

"Helena, get that woman out'a here."

* * *

 

"How about a shave, before you go?" The smell of perfume wafts off of Rachel's skin, and she can see the man become intoxicated. She traces his jaw with her finger, scraping the stubble, "you could use a good, _close_  shave. Your wife will appreciate it," she tips her head to the side. The man is more than happy to oblige.

_His wife will appreciate it_ , she thinks, _when he doesn't come home_. He stinks of whiskey and the rot of the streets. She ties the white apron around his neck.

_What a shame_ , she'll have to buy more sheets.

She feels the life pour out of him when she cuts his throat.

* * *

 

"I will be here, Sarah. Nothing will hurt you," Helena says, and Sarah searches her eyes, for what? They are empty.

"What d'you mean?"

"We are like family, yes?"

Sarah nods, cautiously.

"If someone wanted to hurt you, that you didn't know was... dangerous. I will protect you," she covers Sarah's hand with her own.

"Who? Who's dangerous?"

Helena shushes her. "I will check on the oven, Sarah," and she leaves her alone. Sarah groans.

* * *

 

Rachel _hates_ it when the wives and the daughters want to sit in. She grinds her teeth and smiles, all the while eyeing the outline on the floor where the door drops.

The room is uncomfortably silent, and she grinds her heels into the wood floor everytime she moves around him. Circling.

* * *

 

"Why did you scream?" Rachel demands, staring Sarah down. She does not appreciate being interrupted, for any reason.

"He- I..." Sarah nudges the man on the floor with her foot, "he wasn't dead."

Sarah watches as Rachel's heels click, closer and closer to the body. She doesn't look up.

"He looks dead to me."

Sarah digs her fingernails into her palms, trying to keep the flush out of her face, "he wasn't."

Rachel looks her up and down.

"I trust you can clean this up."

* * *

 

It's fitting, Rachel thinks, that Sarah dies where she baked her terrible, terrible pies. There is no need for them anymore, no crowded shop, no more customers. It's over, it's enough. The screams die out after a while, and the cellar smells even worse. All that hair.

Rachel calculates. She needs a change of clothes. She needs to repaint her nails. She straightens her dress, knowing it will have to burn with the rest of it.

She doesn't hear sewer grate.

_Nothing will hurt you. I will be here._

There is a fire burning in Helena, too. She is covered in the waste of the city, and she is going to rid the underbelly of the sick, broken people.

Screams echo around her head, and she knows. She knows what she has to do.

She holds Rachel's best, only friend in her hand, and it feels even colder when Rachel's warm blood rushes over it.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mess, and I love it. I hope you love it as much as I do. I might end up writing more of it, too.


End file.
